


Past me, Future You

by smirkingcat



Series: To meet you again [2]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Angst, Fluff, M/M, POV First Person
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-27
Updated: 2017-01-27
Packaged: 2018-09-20 07:14:03
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 5,061
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9480677
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/smirkingcat/pseuds/smirkingcat
Summary: The time lost to the one, and the time lived by the other is the time that divides them. The more they try to cope, the more they fall apart. And in the end, all they can do is to meet again.Many thanks tothemightyflynnfor the lovely beta!





	1. Chapter 1

Escaping St Mungo's had proven to be quite difficult, escaping Theo is still an impossible task. He is watching me with his perceptive eyes and, I feel safe to presume, his magic. Some strange spell or another, whatever pleases the unspeakable.  
I hate the feeling of being watched, it's too close to how it was during the war. The fear that comes with it always puts me on edge and makes me snappy in a not good way. For the moment though, I'm keeping my mouth shut. I want Theo to leave and Harry to relax, and maybe then I could finally figure this mess out, as it felt terribly close to having gotten the wrong Christmas present and no clue on how to figure it out.

Harry on the other hand is bustling through our cottage, mumbling to himself, only to stop and shout at us from beyond the room, too excited to really make sense.

"He is happy to have you back," Theo says unprompted, drawing me out of my own musings. 

Turning around, I raise an eyebrow

"You still frown the same way, when you're annoyed at something Harry does," he shrugs.

"I'm not annoyed at him," I disagree, rolling my eyes for emphasis.

And I'm not, not at him at least. I'm annoyed at _everything_. The cottage looks wrong, my magic acts wrong, and Harry... Harry just... Harry just _is_ wrong. He has lost weight, his eyes are surrounded by dark shadows, there are deep furrows in his face, white hair in his black mop and his movements have lost all the natural grace. But most painful is the way he looks at me. There's something watchful in his eyes, like a watchdog making sure the punch at the party doesn't get spiked.  
It's wrong, all of it. 

"Will you just leave?" I snap at Theo, as I notice that he hadn't stopped watching me either. What did he want anyway?

"Draco- things will take time!" Theo says in his usual way, but there's that tiny twitch in the corner of his mouth, betraying his laid back attitude as forced.

"You already said that back at the hospital, when you wanted me to stay there!"

"Draco? Everything okay?" Harry comes back into the room, carefully approaching me, clearly alarmed by my shouting.

"Cut it out! The both of you!" My temper gets away from me. "Really, Potter, what has changed in the last seven hours, for you to change your behaviour towards me so much?" I ask, because I have to know.

"What? Nothing. Is everything alright with you?" Harry comes closer, putting his hand on my forehead- checking for temperature.

"That's it," is the last thing I say, before I stomp away in the direction of my bedroom. Controlling my temper once it has gotten the better of me is never going to happen, so maybe after I calm down, I can face Harry again.  
For now, I'm just tired, and I would like some peace, before the chaos inside my head, gets the better of me.


	2. Chapter 2

"Potter" I scream, my throat hurting, as my voice scratches. Furious only starts to describe me, right now.

"Wha-" Potter comes running.

"Remove it! Remove it now, or I swear on my ancestor's graves I'll remove you from these grounds!" I shout, as I'm struggling to get up. There is a ringing in my ears, and my skull feels like it's about to crack, but apparently there is no blood- Potter would have reacted to the sight of blood.

"I- Yes, of course- but are you ok?" he asks, stepping to me- _not_ removing the wards.

"Harry," I pause, as to not rip out his heart and instead take a deep breath, "we both know that now is not a good time for you to talk to me. Remove the ward, and then leave me be, because otherwise I- I-"  
The deep hurt in his eyes, his fallen face, makes me stop. It's not his fault. I look away, as my heart aches for him. Normally I would step up to him, say something silly, ask for a moment, reassure that all will be fine, but I can't do that now. Nothing feels fine, and inside myself I just want to run to him, and cry on his shoulder and complain- a behaviour I stopped before I turned eleven- the crying, it took the Dark Mark and his Dark Sucker himself to get me out of complaining.

"Please, I'm tired of this day, I just- can't we go to sleep?" I ask, unsure, staring at the personalized wards, which only are there to keep me out. Only as I really focus on the magic, I see the _hiding_ -charm beneath. A memory of the cottage is in my mind, where this corridor and the door here doesn't exist. I take a deep breath. It doesn't change anything.  
Though nothing is the same.

"I'm sorry," Harry mumbles, and the wards melt away. "I was just trying- coping with everything... I hadn't dared to hope you would- to have you back," he adds tiredly, and leans against the wall.

Without hesitation, I step up to him, and kiss him softly. I try not to wince. I noticed it in the hospital too: Harry tastes different, bitter and rough, not as rich and interesting or even borderline sweet as he used to. Or was that also just in my mind?

He sighs against my lips, and his arms move around my waist to pull me in closer, before he suddenly pushes me away: "So-sorry, but... you are tired, and want to shower, and I shall try to make this place look normal again, before I go to bed too," he tries to smile at me, but his eyes are empty.

"Okay," is the only answer I can give, "Okay, so- good night," I nod and step into our bedroom, relax in the familiarity of it, and how it hasn't changed. There was even the book I had been so excited about.

As I close the door and lean against it, the tears are running down my face:  
Three years and nearly ten months- time gone without me ever knowing. I have memories, some seem so random I don't dare to assume they are real, and then there is the last half year. I'm embarrassed by the way I behaved.  
Three years and nearly ten months. Time that passed without me. So much was supposed to happen.

I pick up my right hand and look at the empty fingers: my engagement ring! It's gone too...  
Three years and nearly ten months and one engagement ring. Lost.


	3. Chapter 3

The bed is already empty as I wake up the next morning, and it feels cold enough for Harry to be gone for quite some time, if he came to sleep in here at all. I want to believe he did, and I simply missed him coming in. But this might be a lie I tell myself, so I don't go crazy.

Properly dressed, I venture out into the house, that once was my home, but now I feel like an intruder. The blank walls make my heart ache again. All the proof of "us" is simply gone... Had Harry found someone new?  
No!  
I know that is not true, he would not have kissed me the way he did if he had. But then again, he hadn't kissed me at all. I kissed him...

"Harry?" I call and step into the kitchen, where also the dining table has its place.

"Good morning," Harry replies, looking up from his- is he drinking hot chocolate?

"Good morning?" I reply slightly confused. "What happened to your coffee?" I can't stop to ask, I have to ask, because it was so strange.

"I fancied something different today. I have to go to the workshop. With Christmas this near, I still have lots of work to do," is the terse reply I get.

"Sure," I say and pretend to not be offended by this obvious lie.

_What is wrong with you! Why do you get to be upset, when you are the one who erased us from being!_  
I want to scream that at him, but I don't, because I'm at least still standing tall, Harry just looks defeated.

_How can I fix it? How can I help you? What do you need from me?_ ,  
is what I want to ask, but I don't dare that either, because I fear what he might answer.

"I'm going to visit my mother," I add, already on my way to the door.   
The silence, everything we don't say, things we don't talk about is in the space that once was our relationship, and I can't stand it.

Outside I take a deep breath, enjoying the smell of the grounds covered in snow and laid to rest by the cold of the winter. It's a very specific smell, it speaks from rest, from silence and from possibilities to come.  
I always liked this special fragrance of winter, it is less intrusive than the many flowers in early summer, the changing feeling that lies in the air with spring, or the depressing dullness that comes with autumn, when everything dies.

Leaving the cottage behind I turn towards the manor, the feeling of really coming home finally setting in. Starting to run, to see my mother, to find a place that has not changed, that still is how it ever was.  
As it should be, the door opens for me and I barge through, running down the hallway, entering the small sun-room my mother used to enjoy her breakfast in.   
Abruptly I halt, taking in the scene before me, taking in my mother, who turns around and looks at me. She still looks the same to me, though there are some more lines in her face, and some silver hiding in her blonde, she is still the same strong person as I always have known her to be.  
Now at this age I try to understand why as a child I thought my father to be the strong one. Was it his imposing figure, his strong cane, the way he spoke? I can't remember. But after seeing my mother getting us through the war, the trials and the hard years after - she is the strongest person I ever met, and I hope that I'll turn out to be more like her than him. 

"Draco," she whispers, getting up. Knowing it is me, without having to be told, because she is _my mother_.

"Mother," I answer and hug her, until she hugs me.

"My little Dragon- welcome home," she says in the same sweet voice she used ever since I first had to go to Hogwarts and returned for Christmas.

"Mum," escapes my lips as I lean down to hide in her shoulder. "It hurts, it's all gone and wrong and it hurts so much," I confess to the one person who never judged me, and loved me at the worst of my times.

"My little Dragon. Such a long way home," she whispers again, stroking through my hair.

"Thank you, for staying mine, for not- for not- Thank you for just being _my mother_ ," I say because from all my memories, she is the only person who did not engage the strange child I had been. She was only mine, and mine alone.

"I knew you would come back to me, you always do, my Draco." As she kissed my cheek, my tears start to wet her dress, but it doesn't bother me, I cried in her dresses many times before, and afterwards she would pretend I didn't.

"I feel so wrong mother, and Harry is behaving so strangely too- lying to me, not coming to bed, not talking, I can't take it. Can't take him treating me in such a manner," I confess because I'm overwhelmed by it already, after just one day of being awake.   
"Come now, Draco," mother says with the tiny smile on her lips, before she sits down, taking me with her, so that I kneel in front of her, my head in her lap.  
"Things will need time, for the both of you," she adds softly, and I just enjoy her caresses, letting time pass until I no long can ignore my own hunger.


	4. Chapter 4

My first cup of tea and the first bites of the sweet almond scones are enjoyed in silent comfort. I try to think of a polite way to ask what I wanted to know, but in regards to finesse my mother is my master. Therefore, I decided to be forward: "How is father doing?"

Her knowing smile lets me roll my eyes. Really having a mother as sharp as a knife is not always helpful.

"There are good days, bad day and days that fall in between," she answers cryptically and reaches for her cup.

"Don't you think you have done enough? There is simply no help anymore, would it not be better for the both of you if he were to be in the care of professionals?" I ask carefully. Whenever we have this discussion, it doesn't end well. Talking about my father is not something that is easy for the both of us.

"Interesting that you should say this, given that less than a week ago I said the same thing to Harry."

"You **what**?" I demand, my cutlery hitting the fine porcelain as I rise form my seat.  
"How could you? I mean you just said you knew I would come back, how can you tell my fiancé to leave me? I didn't do it for myself, and it was not amusing or pleasing. Most of the time I felt out of place and not fitting in. Why would you say such a thing to him?" 

"Please Draco, stop having a conniption and try using that sharp brain of yours. Really, when it comes to Harry you are still that young boy, wanting him all on your own, and therefore never thinking about _him_ but only your want for him," mother reprimands and with a loaded glance to my chair, makes me sit down again.

"But I know that you now love Harry dearly and truly, and that you would have want the best for him. Draco, Harry was destroying himself taking care of you. I think he lost hope about a year ago on the anniversary of that wedding that never took place. But he carried on, like the good hero he used to be-" 

"I hate when he does that, doing what everyone demands, not taking care of himself, and it's so hard to train him out of it," I add with a sigh.

"Then you understand why taking care of your lover, who behaves like a child, may not have been good for Harry? Truly I think I might be the only person who told him that it was time for him to let you go, but Draco if your roles had been reversed I would have done the same. There was no hope, and according to young Master Nott-"

"He hates when you call him that, you do realise that, right?" I interrupt, making her flash me a warning glance. "Well, it annoys him," I shrug it off.

"Disrupting Draco really? You were raised better than this."

"Not in the last three years, I tell you some of the things I got up to with Harry and Teddy would have grand-maman Malfoy in tears," I smirk, not feeling guilty in the slightest.

"Draco, you know that your distracting techniques do not work on me," mother warns me and I nod, but keep my mouth shut.

"Draco, you were only promised to be married, to share your lives, to stay through the good and the bad times. You are barely old enough to understand what it would mean to stay together until death undoes that promise. I could not ask of Harry to care for you all his life, since even when you would have grown up again, you would not have been his lover, his friend, his Draco. And when I think about you in that situation I would wish for someone to take that burden away from you. I in that regard am married, and I know your feelings for your father have changed through ages, as they should, when a boy grows into a man. But mine are the same. Not as excitable as I used to be in my youth maybe, but I dearly love my husband, and the good days make it so worth it. Also, I had a happy marriage with my husband, I saw my child growing up to become a man in his own right. Of course, many would say that living with the Dark Lord would absolve me of my promise to my husband, but back then, while we lived in fear, I still loved him and you. And I will not break my promise now," mother speaks. And I feel awed by the grandness of her emotions, but also by her reasoning.

"What if- what... do you believe we have a chance? I feel like he doesn't want me anymore, like he would wish for me to be gone. You know I always wanted to have such a marriage like yours. Well, in the past I saw it differently to be honest, but through everything you never gave up on each other, and I admire that very much," I whisper, stroking the brim my cup.

"Draco there is only one person on this planet with the answers you seek. And for once you really ought to control your temper and listen."

"It's just, I feel so embarrassed, and nobody seems to care that I just lost time in my life, and missed what was supposed to be my honey-moon phase."

I sound like a prat even to my own ears, but that's the point for me. No one seems to care that I didn't want to behave like a child or be cursed on the job. Do I even still have a job?

"You lost three years yes, but you didn't lose them on your own. Harry lost the same thing, and in its place was something that should never have been. Don't you think that he can understand you better than anybody else?" 

Of course my mother has to ask the difficult things first.

"However, I bet the both of you are doing your 'everything is fine'-routine and then you come to complain to me at breakfast and most likely I see Harry for tea. Please, you can't always count on me to get the two of you to talk to each other," she adds as a snide remark and it makes me wince.

"Are you throwing me out?" I ask just to make sure. 

"After you finished your breakfast and your tea," she simply nods.

_Madness. My mother is pure madness._  
Not that I would ever dare to say that to her face. Not even now that I was a well versed auror.


	5. Chapter 5

Staring at the back entrance of Harry's shop, I try to think of the best way to enter. It is one thing to have my mother tell me I shall talk with Harry, it is quite another to go and do it. Honestly, I'm tired of trying to manoeuvre a minefield.  
 _Let's keep it simple, Draco._  
After a short knock, I open the door to Harry's workroom and enter.

"Draco, what are you doing here?" Harry gets up from his small table, clearly not woodworking.

"My mother sends me. She apparently is not amused about the fact that we need her to talk to each other," I answer honestly, leaning against the door.

"So, she doesn't want me to come over for tea today?" Harry asks, small smile on his lips, looking at something in his hand.

"Do you want me to go away?" 

I fear the answer to that question, but that is what truly is bothering me. What if all his feelings have changed, and he just wants me gone? I would not know what to do, I still feel like I did in the past, but then for me nothing has changed, except that I now have some embarrassing memories, which aren't my own but still are my own. But maybe for Harry, everything has changed.

"NO! No of course not, now that I finally got you back... " Harry disagrees vehemently, making me relax my shoulders. But then of course he has to go on: "it's just... I don't know how to act, I don't know what to do and most of all I don't know what I should do to help, you know. I want it all to just be back like it used to be, but it never will be that way again... and I'm afraid we can't deal with that."

"What does that mean?"   
My mother can be proud of me, because I would like to scream and shout at him and say that he is being a moron and that he should stop doing something stupid! But I don't, I try to listen, try to understand.

"There is so much want in me, longing I have for you, but I- I tried to ignore it for so long, to make it not real, because you weren't yourself, and now you are, and I'm just- I'm not that quick. I feel like I can't keep up. Draco. I went as far as I could, and then I just kept holding on, to what I don't remember anymore, and suddenly everyone tells me to let you go, and move on, and now you are back and acting pissed off all the time- of course you are pissed off, everyone would be, but I simply can't deal with that. I don't know how to deal with it."

It's the way Harry speaks that breaks my heart: every word is forced, every feeling of defeat is visible in his face, in his body and the tone of his voice. The unshed tears are just there to make sure my heart stays broken.  
While for me time has stopped, for him everything changed.  
I can see what my mother meant when she said that he lost hope.

"You knew this was how it's going to be," I whisper in sudden realisation.

"Knew it, no. If I truly knew it, I would have been prepared, but I feared it. I feared we would no longer fit each other, no longer recognise each other," Harry answers.

We both sigh at the same time, unsure on what to say next.

Suddenly I start to laugh.

"Are you losing your mind?" Harry asks aghast.

"No, I'm losing my love, that is worse. Maybe it would have been better if I died then, and we both would have had, what we did. I can't lose you, I can't let you go. It took us so long to have a nice comfortable life together, to be happy. I can't simply walk away from that. But you already left all that behind, left me behind, and I might never catch up to you again. In the end the time I'm missing is the time that will always separate us."

I'm not sure if I sound desperate or a lunatic, but I know I'm hopeless.  
And I'm not alone in that feeling.


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 25th prompt: [](http://images.dailyhive.com/20160912140657/Christmas-champagne-Andrzej-SowaShutterstock.jpg)

The party was already in full swing when Draco arrived, Pansy at his arm.   
He had taken her out for a belated Christmas shopping, as apparently only that could make up for all the gifts he missed on giving her.

"Are you sure about this?" Pansy whispered slightly nervous in his ear.

"Perfectly. Don't worry, it's fine," Draco replied, a smile on his face.  
He had cut his hair short again, managed to get an agreement with head auror Dawlish for a re-evaluation come January and his spot back in the auror ranks. Then he had a long talk with Charlie Weasley, who readily agreed to add Draco back in as his chief- editor and small time co-writer, and he had managed to beat Krum to the snitch one in three times.

He also had moved back into the manor.  
The cottage had been demolished, after they had taken all they wanted to keep out of it, and before they bid their good bye's.  
That was what they had agreed upon the last time Draco had spoken with Harry, in Harry's workshop. They had spent nearly all day there, talking about their experiences, crying in each other's arms, and knowing that even if they tried, there simply was no way back. They had to craft a new way forward.  
Harry had moved in with Neville and Theo, which had surprised everyone, except maybe Theo. Draco couldn't say, as they hadn't spoken about Harry on Christmas eve, when his friends had come over to the manor for a quick gift exchange.

"I'm not sure that your presence is not doing damage to my good looks. Everyone is staring at you," Pansy mumbled.

"They only stare at me, as to not stare at your cleavage. Really, is that dress even appropriate?"

"What, don't you like it?" Pansy whipped her shoulders.

"No, though I must say, being as gay as I am I think I don't enjoy it to the fullest. Still, you are the most stunning women around," Draco compliment her with a big smile, taking two glasses of champagne from the lavishly decorated table.

"Finally the party couple is here- so get the music on," Blaise shouted over the already mingling people, giving his nod to the band he hired for the evening.

"Well, well, doesn't your place shine and sparkle tonight. Doing good are you?" Draco greeted Blaise, shaking his hand.

"Of course I am. And you look stunning too, my friend."

"Even you are complimenting him before me?" Pansy huffs.

"Well, I must say, I think I already said everything nice about your perfect bosom, so I don't want to sound redundant to you, my fair maiden," Blaise teases Pansy, kissing her hand.

"Oh don't you dare call me a maiden, that ship sailed," she tweaked him instead.

"Really you are such a difficult person, for such an easy lay," Blaise huffed.

"Priorities Blaise, I have them. And when I have an itch, I like it to be scratched," she grinned, making Draco roll his eyes.

"And this has nothing to do with Krum's teammate- how often did he visit you in the fourteen days he is now here?" Blaise teased.

"I think someone _over there_ is calling for you, Mr Host," Pansy replied, before she drifted away to said friend.  
Draco and Blaise simply stared after her before they grinned at each other. "Someone has it bad," Blaise commented.

"Someone does," Draco agreed readily.

"You will be fine?" Blaise asked, suddenly serious.

"I will be excellent. I'm still Draco Malfoy after all."

"It's just that-"

"No, Blaise. It's fine," Draco said and stopped Blaise from speaking further.

Draco genuinely enjoyed the party. Talking to people he knew, and also meeting new people. He liked the air of excitement in the room. The new year was welcomed by many with good food, nice dancing, and happy company.

Shortly before midnight the people milled out into Blaise's atrium to enjoy the fireworks, Draco among them.  
He had found a good spot a little aside to the main masses, to enjoy the fantastic display presented by the WWW.

"So even a Malfoy can enjoy fireworks. I thought it might be too plebeian for your taste."

Draco turned around to take a good look at Harry. He too had cut his hair, and it suited him nicely. He also seemed to have gained some of his muscles back, so he must be eating well, and there was a silent glow of excitement around him. Truly Harry looked well, collected and healthy, and Draco felt proud of him, of knowing that once again Harry managed to pull through the impossible.

"Insults Potter? The new year is barely two minutes old," Draco replied, not taking his eyes off the sky, as a huge dragon took flight.

"Habit when I see you. Maybe a fresh start would do us some good, too. I'm Harry Potter, apparently I'm a saviour to the wizarding world, but really I like my carpeting business better. And I might have been a git to you in school, but I made up for that, when I didn't let you and your family be dragged off to Azkaban," Harry stammered, heart beating fast in his chest, stretching out his hand.

"Well, that is an awkward introduction if I ever heard one. Let's see, I'm Draco Malfoy, my family tried to kill you - more than once I presume - and I have a mark on my arm you might not appreciate very much, and your godson is my cousin once removed. I was all about the Dark Arts in school, so now as an auror I do a fantastic job in fighting them and I still like flying and winning and chocolate. Don't expect any worship from me," Draco replied, shaking the offered hand. "There, did I beat you?"

"Everything is a contest for you, is it not?" Harry rolled his eyes, but a smile on his lips. "Still, I'm glad I got to meet you again. I'm sure you've got lots of entertaining stories to tell." Harry's eyes were sparkling, and he hadn't yet let go of Draco's hand, enjoying the tingle of the touch.

"Oh, I have. What do you want to hear first? The one in my first year, where other aurors were called on me, and I was detained by the subject I should have interviewed? That is an audience favourite," Draco smiled back, not letting go either.

"I have a feeling, Malfoy, I want to hear them all."

"Then I shall oblige you, as it will be my pleasure. But only if you tell me some of your stories, oh great carpenter," Draco smirked back, a spark of mischief in his eyes.

A new year, a new chance, an old love.  
That was their silent promise to one another.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **The End**
> 
> Thanks for reading!


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